Hello my dear friend and welcome back to Drift Off.
I'm your host Joanne.
Wherever you are right now,
Under soft blankets,
In a favorite chair,
Or simply lying still,
Let this be your moment to let the day go.
Tonight we return to the enchanted world of George McDonald for part two and the conclusion of Little Daylight.
When we last left our story.
A young prince had discovered a wide grassy clearing deep within the palace woods.
There beneath the glowing moon,
He watched a beautiful princess dance and sing,
Completely lost in her own radiant world.
But as the moon began to wane,
Her energy faded,
And the prince,
Worn out from watching so intently,
Drifted quietly off to sleep,
Waking to find the clearing empty once more.
Tonight,
We follow the prince as he searches for her again,
And discover how a patient,
Kind heart might finally break a stubborn spell.
But before we begin.
.
.
Let's take a moment to arrive here fully.
Take a slow breath in.
.
.
And let it go.
Feel the weight of your body sinking a little deeper into the bed.
Into the chair.
Into this moment There's nowhere else you need to be right now.
Nothing left to finish tonight with each breath.
Let your shoulders soften.
Let your mind grow quiet.
Like the last light fading gently from the sky.
So close your eyes now.
Relax completely.
And when you're ready,
Let's begin.
He couldn't bring himself to leave.
What if she returned again that night?
He would gladly go hungry for the chance to see her once more.
And simply tighten his belt against the hunger.
He walked around the glade.
Hoping to find some sign of her footsteps.
But the grass was so short.
And her steps so light that she left no trace at all.
Halfway around the glade,
He spotted a lovely little cottage with a thatched roof and low eaves,
Surrounded by a beautiful garden where doves and peacocks wandered freely.
Surely,
He thought,
This must be where the gentle lady of the moonlight lives.
Forgetting how travel-worn he looks.
He walked toward the door,
Meaning to ask after her.
But catching his own reflection in a little pond of golden and silver fish.
He turned instead toward the kitchen door.
There he knocked and asked for a little bread.
The kind cook welcomed him.
And gave him a good breakfast,
Which tasted just as wonderful served in the kitchen.
As he ate,
He chatted with her.
And learned that this cottage was the favorite retreat of the princess daylight.
He learned little more than that,
Though careful not to seem too curious.
And the cloak for her part.
Wasn't about to gossip about her mistress with a traveling stranger who'd asked for breakfast.
As he rose to leave.
It occurred to him that he might not be far at all from the old woman's cottage.
And he asked the cook if she knew of such a place,
Describing it as best he could.
She said she knew it well,
Adding with a small smile,
That's where you're headed is it?
If it's not too far,
Yes.
Not more than 3 miles.
But mind yourself they are all the same.
Why do you say that?
If you're up to any mischief.
She'll see that you regret it.
That would be exactly what I deserve,
Then,
Said the prince.
How do you mean,
Asked the cook.
Well,
He said.
If a person means to do something wrong.
The kindest thing that could happen to them is to be stopped and made to think better of it.
I see,
Said the cook smiling.
Well,
I think you'll do fine.
She's a good soul.
She gave him careful directions,
And he thanked her warmly before setting off.
Feeling refreshed now.
The prince decided not to return to the cottage that day.
He stayed near the glade instead.
Passing the hours as best he could,
Waiting eagerly for night to fall,
In hopes the princess might appear again.
And share enough.
The moment the moon rose,
He spotted a soft glimmer moving across the glade.
As it drew closer,
He saw it was indeed her,
Dressed not in white this time,
But in a soft blue like the summer sky,
And lovelier still.
He thought it must be the color that suited her so well.
He didn't yet know that she was simply growing more radiant as the moon grew fuller.
In fact,
The very next night would bring the full moon,
And with it,
The height of her beauty.
For a while,
The prince feared she wouldn't come near his hiding place that night.
But as the moon rose higher,
Her circles grew wider and wider,
Until at last they filled the whole glade,
And she came closer to his tree than she ever had before.
He watched her,
Entirely lost in wonder at her loveliness.
All through the night he watched,
Never daring to step closer.
Hardly able to think of anything but how beautiful she was.
He watched until,
As the moon sank low,
Her circles grew smaller again,
Until at last,
She slipped from sight.
Tired as he was,
He made his way back to the old woman's cottage just in time to share her breakfast,
Then slept soundly for many hours.
When he woke,
The sun had already set,
And he hurried out again,
Anxious not to miss another glimpse of her.
But weather through some quiet mischief of the Marsh Fairy.
Or simply because a path can look different going the other way.
He lost his way entirely.
I won't try to describe how downhearted he felt when the moon rose and all he could see around him were trees,
Trees,
And more trees.
The moon was already high by the time he finally reached the glade.
But his worries melted away at once,
For there she was,
Dancing toward him in a dress that shimmered like gold.
Her feet glimmering through the grass like little points of light.
She seemed,
If possible.
Even more radiant than before.
Like a beam of sunlight brought to life.
She passed him,
And danced on into the distance.
Before she completed her circle again,
Clouds began gathering around the moon,
The wind picked up,
The trees swayed and murmured,
And their branches leaned as one beneath the breeze.
The prince feared she might retreat indoors and he'd lose sight of her for the night,
But she came dancing on more joyfully than ever.
Her golden dress and sunlit hair streaming in the wind,
Arms lifted as though inviting the clouds to part for her.
The prince could hardly believe she was in some living piece of the sky itself.
By the time she completed another circle.
The clouds had thickened,
And distant thunder rumbled softly.
Just as she passed his tree,
A flash of lightning lit the glade,
And for a moment he lost sight of her.
And when is eyes cleared to his alarm?
She lay upon the ground.
He rushed to her side,
Afraid she'd been struck,
But the moment she heard him coming,
She was back on her feet.
Do you want?
" she asked.
Forgive me.
I thought,
With the lightning,
The prince stammered.
There's nothing wrong,
" said the princess,
Waving him gently but firmly away.
The disappointed prince turned to go.
Wait,
" said Daylight.
I like you.
You listened when you're told something.
Are you good?
Not as good as I'd like to be,
Admitted the prince.
Then go and become better,
She said simply.
Once more he turned,
Disheartened to leave.
Wait,
She said again.
He turned back and waited quietly.
Can you tell me what the sun looks like?
" she asked.
I can't,
" he said.
But why ask about something you must already know?
But I don't know,
She said.
Surely everyone knows that.
That's just it.
I'm not everyone.
I've never once seen the sun.
Then no words of mine could really tell you,
" he said.
I believe you must be a prince,
" said the princess.
Do I look it?
" he asked,
Glancing at his worn traveling clothes.
I couldn't quite say that.
Then why do you think so?
Because you listen and you speak honestly.
Is the sun truly so bright?
As bright as the lightning,
But it doesn't vanish the way lightning does.
No,
It shines steadily,
Like the moon,
Rising and setting the same way,
Only far too bright to look at directly.
I would look at it anyway,
She said.
You couldn't,
" he said gently.
I could,
She insisted.
Then why haven't you?
Because I cannot wake for it.
Why can't you wake?
Because I never shall until.
.
.
Here she covered her face with her hands.
Turned quietly away and walked back toward her cottage with slow,
Graceful steps.
The prince followed a little way behind.
But when she turned and gently waved him back,
He stopped at once,
Like the true gentleman he was.
He waited a long while,
But since she didn't return and the sky had cleared by now,
He finally set off for the old woman's cottage.
It was well past midnight when he arrived.
And to his surprise,
He found the old woman calmly peeling potatoes by her door.
Fairies do love their odd little habits.
Indeed,
For those with fairy blood,
Night is very often their favorite time of day.
Whatever are you doing out here at this hour,
Mother?
The prince asked,
In the warm,
Familiar way one might speak to a kindly elder.
Getting your supper ready,
My dear,
" she answered.
Oh,
I don't believe I want any supper,
Said the prince.
Ah,
You've seen daylight then,
Said she.
I've met a princess who's never once seen daylight,
" he said.
Do you care for her?
Asked the fairy.
More than I could ever say,
Mother,
He answered.
A fairy can believe almost anything there ever was,
Or ever could be,
Said the old woman.
Then you must be a fairy,
Said the prince.
I am,
" she said simply.
Then what's left that you wouldn't believe?
Oh,
Plenty.
Everything that never was and never could be.
Fair enough,
Said the prince.
But could you believe there might be a princess who has never once seen daylight?
Do you believe that?
He asked this not because he doubted it.
But hoping she might tell him more.
But she was far too wise and old fairy to be caught so easily.
Of anyone,
A fairy must never tell secrets,
Especially about a princess.
I'll share one with you then.
I am a prince.
I already knew that.
How did you know?
By the little curl in your third eyelash.
Which side do you count from?
That's a secret too.
Another secret.
If I truly am a prince.
Surely there's no harm in telling me a little about a princess.
Its princes in particular I mustn't tell.
There aren't more of us about,
Are there?
" asked the prince.
Do you suppose you're the only prince in the whole world?
Oh,
Not at all.
But I do know there's one too many just now,
Unless the princess.
.
.
Yes,
Yes,
Exactly,
Said the fairy.
What's exactly,
He asked.
But try as he might.
He could get nothing further from her and had to go to bed with his questions unanswered.
Which you can imagine wasn't the easiest thing.
Now,
Unhappy fairies don't always hold themselves to the same gentle rules the good fairies follow,
Which sometimes seems to give them an advantage,
Since they'll try means the others simply wouldn't.
But it never truly works in their favor.
In the end.
Their efforts always seemed to bring about the very thing they hoped to prevent.
So for all their cleverness.
These fairies never seem to learn.
Each one tries the same old tricks,
And fares no better than the last.
The Prince,
Without meaning to,
Had gotten a good head start on the Marsh Fairy.
For she hadn't even realized he was nearby until after he'd already seen the princess three times.
Once she found out.
She told herself the princess was surely much too shy and dignified to let any young man near before he'd seen her at least six times.
In truth,
There was even less danger than she imagined.
For however much the princess longed to be free of her spell,
She was quite wary of the wrong sort of prince coming along.
Still,
The old fairy resolved to do everything she could to delay things.
Through her quiet mischief.
She made it so that,
For the following nights,
The prince simply couldn't find his way back to the glade,
No matter how hard he tried.
I won't take the time to describe every little trick she used.
They might seem amusing to us,
Since we know no real harm could come of them.
But to the poor prince,
Wandering lost through the forest,
Night after night before falling asleep exhausted at dawn,
It was no fun at all.
This went on for seven nights,
During which he couldn't even find his way back to the Goodfairies' cottage.
Once the moon passed its third quarter though.
The old fairy felt reassured.
Believing there'd be no chance of any kiss for a good fortnight yet.
So on the first night of the new quarter,
The prince found the cottage again.
And the following night,
The Glade as well.
For nearly a week he waited there,
But the princess never came.
I suspect she may have wandered near the far edge of the Glade some of those nights.
But during this quiet time she wore soft,
Dark colors,
And with little moonlight to see by,
The prince never noticed her.
Nor would he have known her even if he had,
For how could he have recognized his radiant princess daylight in her tired,
Quiet form?
At last,
On a night with no moon at all,
He ventured close to the cottage.
There he heard voices,
Even though it was well past midnight.
Her attendants were anxious.
For the one whose turn it was to watch over her had drifted off to sleep.
And hadn't seen which way she'd wandered.
On a night like this,
She might roam quite far,
Following a wide circle that curved away from the back of the cottage.
Deep into a part of the forest the prince didn't know at all.
When he understood,
She had wandered off and might be anywhere in that direction.
He went straight into the trees to search for her.
For hours he wandered,
Guided only by the vague notion of a wide circle that touched the cottage somewhere along its edge.
For that much he'd gathered from the voices he'd overheard.
Dawn was still a while off,
With no light yet in the sky,
When he came upon a great birch tree and sat down beneath it.
Weary and full of worry for the princess,
Wondering how her attendance could seem so calm about it all.
It occurred to him.
That lighting a small fire might help.
If she were nearby,
It could draw her attention.
So using a tinderbox the good fairy had given him.
He said about it.
And just as the flame began to catch,
He heard a soft,
Tired sound from the other side of the tree.
He got to his feet at once,
His heart pounding so hard he had to steady himself against the trunk before he could move.
When he came around the tree.
There on the ground lay a small huddled figure.
By the light of this little fire.
He could see clearly enough that it wasn't the princess.
He lifted her gently.
She weighed hardly more than a child and carried her closer to the warmth of the flame.
It was an old woman.
Her face weary in a way that struck him deeply.
A dark hood covered her hair and her eyes were closed.
He laid her down as comfortably as he could.
Warmed her hands between his own,
Offered her a little cordial from the small bottle the fairy had also given him.
Wrapped his own coat around her shoulders.
And did everything he could think to help.
After a little while.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him.
So gently,
So sadly,
That tears rose and slipped down her lined cheeks,
Though she said not a word.
She closed her eyes again,
And still the tears fell,
And her whole manner was so quietly sorrowful that the prince felt his own eyes sting with feeling.
He asked her softly what troubled her,
Promising to help however he could,
But she remained silent.
Or reach for her.
He gathered her up again to carry her toward the princess's cottage.
Hoping the kind cook might know how to help.
As he lifted her,
Her tears came faster.
And she made such a soft,
Sorrowful sound that it touched him deeply.
There now,
Mother,
" he said gently.
Dear Mother and kissed her softly on her weathered cheeks.
She startled,
And her eyes opened wide,
Though in the darkness he couldn't quite see them,
Too busy finding his way carefully through the trees toward the cottage.
Just as he neared the door.
Feeling more tired than he could ever remember,
For all she was such a small slight thing,
She began to stir,
Growing restless,
Until,
Unable to carry her any further,
He gently set her down upon the grass.
But the moment her feet touched the ground.
She rose,
Standing tall and upright on her own.
Her hood slipped back.
And her hair fell loose around her shoulders.
The first soft light of morning touched her face,
And that face glowed as fresh as the dawn itself.
Her eyes deep and lovely as the darkest blue sky.
The prince stepped back in wonder.
It was daylight herself he had carried from the forest.
He sank to his knees before her,
Not daring to look up until her hand rested gently on his head,
And he rose.
You kissed me when I was old and tired,
She said softly,
And now I kiss you as a young princess.
She paused,
Looking toward the horizon.
Is that the sun coming at last?
And indeed it was.
Together they stood and watched their first golden light spill quietly over the treetops,
And for the first time in her life,
Daylight saw the sunrise with her own waking eyes.
She wept a little,
And laughed a little,
And held the prince's hand very tightly,
As though she might float away with joy if she let go.
They were married before the summer was out.
In the same green glade where he had first seen her dancing.
The whole forest seemed to come out for it.
Doves and peacocks wandering the grass.
Birdsong drifting from every tree.
And the good fairy sleeping quietly among the guests.
Pleased with how their long,
Patient kindness had finally come round right.
From that day on,
The spell's old shadow could never touch her again,
Though something gentle and lovely lingered from it all the same.
The sunlight became her joy.
She loved nothing better than long golden mornings,
Warm afternoons in the garden,
The simple happiness of ordinary daylight hours spent beside the prince she loved.
And the moonlight which had once worn her thin and pale Became instead her peace.
Quiet evenings when the two of them would walk together beneath its silver glow,
Remembering,
Softly and without sadness,
How it had once been the only light she knew.
They made their home in the little cottage by the glade.
The very place she loved best as a girl.
And in time,
It filled with laughter of their own children.
Little princes and princesses who grew up chasing fireflies at dusk and falling asleep to stories beneath the moon,
Just as their mother once had.
And so they lived.
Warmed by the sun,
Soothed by the moon,
And surrounded always by the people they love.
Happily and gently ever after.
Sweet dreams my friend.
Sleep well.
